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Perhaps the egg is within us as the egg is within the universe... and all things are the chicken.
No separation... just infinite celestial birth, life, death and rebirth cycles with no beginning and or end.
I for one am not in favor of the big bang theory or the heat death theory,
I think maybe it has just always been.
The issue is... this cosmic chicken is in fact a phoenix.
These are just possibly just my beliefs,
But it helps me sleep at night.
I look at the moment and the recent past,
And look for patterns,
To predict the origin and possible future of this place.
Everything is dust and shadow when we look too far back,
I'd predict the background radiation is simply as such,
And the big bang theory is nothing more than a cosmic graveyard from which all things renew.
And that perhaps the big bang never actually happened.
In my honest opinion,
These cycles have just always been.
Infinity.
However the concept of infinity is a weird one,
It appears so vast,
Because it most likely is, but it's recursive.
It folds back on itself.
Perhaps there is no horizon,
But either way, it loops within a loop.
The cosmic map always changes,
and the supposed gold buried at the beginning of time was already long since plundered and sold back into the checks and balances of the endless everything reforming itself.
Time is just a human concept.
The hands of the cosmic clock don't actually tick, they flow like foam on the sea and pulse.
You don't look to the sea to tell you the time...
You look to the moon, and it's affects upon the sea to see the tides.
But like water... it simply flows.
That's time.
Much like one water molecule doesn't essentially flow until it's in the context of all the other similar molecules.
Scientists break things down too far,
And forget the big picture.
The origin isn't an origin.
It's a constant pulse.
I mean attempt trying to prove your heart was beating 10 years ago,
Just by looking at the past,
Removing YOU currently from the observation.
And just instead look back into the events of ten years past without any written record.
It's all simply a pulse, the pulse of life.
Also life itself is just one of those things, it's constantly breaking down and renewing itself.
I think we humans take this for granted.
We think our lives should be purposeful,
But it's like a wave attempting to understand why it crests,
And falls,
Not realizing it's just the ocean itself.
I think we are just so intently enamored and sated by our own ingenuity we think perhaps because we built this world in our own pride and arrogance assume it comes with some extra inherent purpose?
Just because we can make 4k big screen TVs does not mean we can attribute meaning to this place, aside from the individual meaning we assign to it.
I think the true abomination of civilization was the intelligence it took to create it in the first place from a barren waste of nothingness.
Nature doesn't have it all figured out either.
To simply "be" for humans however isn't enough for some.
So we strain ourselves, in the search for more.
And in doing so conjure demons into the abyss between our inherent natures and the natures we built for ourselves.
The true torture of the mind, is the logic is takes to reason why.
It's a both a blessing and a curse.
But if we look around at the grandeur of our speck in the celestial interstellar landscape, we think ourselves quite special.
Of all we have achieved,
Just a blip in cosmic time,
One heart beat in the lifespan of the pulse of universe.
Yet we torture ourselves with these grand questions,
And as such, tear this world apart in an effort to rebuild it in our own image.
We'd learn a lot from stillness,
And peace.
